


Dozywocie

by givemerockruffs



Category: Just Roll With It (Podcast)
Genre: ??? - Freeform, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Jacquot kind of briefly adopts them idk, Not Canon Compliant, Possession, im sure that tag exists on this website for a Weird reason but these are fucking normal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23817733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/givemerockruffs/pseuds/givemerockruffs
Summary: In which Brendan is not immediately separated from his sons when his wife dies.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 48





	Dozywocie

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this at 1pm yesterday, fell asleep for 10 hours, then finished it. It's all over the place, I'm leaving shit out, there's likely a lot of errors bc my brain can't retain every detail/piece of info about the show and lore quite yet. Just things to keep in mind. It moves kinda fast and brief, so.  
> Also it changes pov halfway thru to Jacquot ig???

Alywn would always fight to protect his sons.

The half-elf was a damaged man, to be sure. A dangerous one, even. However, his sons meant the world to him. They were his everything. Since their mother died, the children were all he had of her. He had to keep them safe. He would.

They ended up on the streets of the wharf. Alwyn had been able to swoop up his children and, by the skin of his neck, evaded authorities the day his wife was taken from them. Was able to hide away from those looking to separate him from his remaining family. It was a less than ideal situation; Sylnan was only 3, and had watched his mother be killed. He wept the entire time his father carried him. His second son… he had only just been born. Not even named. It was a miracle Alywn had gotten him out of there in one piece. In the alley where they had stopped to breathe, the half-elf cradled the newborn in his arms and whispered softly to him, looking him over to ensure his safety. The baby didn’t cry, just made soft noises, which unnerved him somewhat. But he put that in the back of his mind. He glanced over to Sylnan, who was huddled up to Alwyn’s side, knees tucked up to his chest. His eyes were blown wide in fear, and he met his father’s gaze when he looked at him. However, he said nothing. In that moment, Alwyn had never felt more helpless and alone.

He’d started working against the king  _ very _ shortly after that incident. What he’d brought upon his wife and, in turn, children and himself was unforgivable to Alwyn. It ate away at him, gnawing in the back of his mind. He had to have his revenge.

After a few days of moving through alleys and being barely able to care for a child and a newborn, especially while avoiding guards and other authorities, Alwyn had a stroke of luck. A man offered him a place to stay among the thief's guild, underground. Dangerous, to be sure, but with an ally, less dangerous. His name was Jaquot. A noble. Working against the king right under his nose. Someone Alwyn could benefit from working with. Jaquot had found them in one of the alleyways one night, and Alwyn had threatened him. Regardless, Jaquot was ready and willing to help, already knowing who the half-elf was. In the night, he led the family down into the underground. That’s where Alwyn began a new, much more cautious life.

With Jaquot, things were easier down there, but not by much. Raising 2 children amongst a society of other, more dangerous criminals would never be easy, regardless of circumstances. He couldn’t bring himself to name the newborn, as it was something he and his wife were meant to do together. So, he’d let Sylnan name him. They ended up calling him Br’aad. He was particularly quiet those first few years. Sylnan, however, as he slowly dealt with the trauma of seeing his mother die, became rather outgoing, interested in their lifestyle in the guild. For 2 years, Alwyn struggled with that life in the underground, rarely leaving in favor of keeping an eye on his sons, Jaquot essentially taking care of them as the two men slowly formed plans of taking out the king that had put Alwyn in this wretched situation to begin with.

But things got more interesting around that 2 year mark. Alwyn found a book in the guild. A book that, when he read the spells within it, brought him face to face with what he could only describe as some kind of  _ deity _ which promised him  _ power unimaginable _ that could help him  _ have his revenge _ .

And by the Gods, Alwyn jumped at that chance.

His price to pay was his love and humanity.

As time went on and Alwyn established a bigger name for himself as a criminal among the streets of the wharf (killing the king’s men, mostly), as he became invested in nurturing his new magical abilities granted to him by this book -- that deity -- his perception of the world shifted. Everything gradually began to change. The mindset of revenge and power overtook the one that treasured his children and had reserved love and care for them. He could even identify the shift.

One night, another year later, he’d been standing over Sylnan and Br’aad’s shared bed in their rather small room in the guild. He’d been tucking them into sleep. Sylnan (6 now), having been running around quite a bit and driving Alwyn to drink hours earlier, was already out cold, no energy left from his escapades. Br’aad (3 at this point), however, had sat awake for a little while after, asked his father to tell him a story to help him sleep. So, Alwyn had, with some unusual annoyance as he’d planned to study the book the night, and was already past his mentally scheduled time for it. He’d never been off-put telling his sons stories before, humoring them, helping them fall asleep, whatever they wanted really. These were things he enjoyed. These boys were his prides and joys. Why did he feel that way? A voice in the back of his head said, distantly, this was the price to pay for power, but he barely heard. 

As Alwyn finished telling Br’aad of a peasant girl granted magical powers by a wizard, the boy sank lower into the bed he laid upon.   
“I liked that one,” he told his father simply. Then, he smiled warmly at him in a way that only a child could. And Alwyn felt a rush of love, of care, and smiled just as genuinely back. But then that feeling vanished. As he pulled the thin excuse of a blanket they owned over Br’aad’s torso, the smile turned sour and fell from his face. The man looked over his two sons, and realized something. _Why am I so concerned with them?_ He stepped away from the bed as Br’aad shut his eyes and began to drift off, cuddled up beside his brother. _There are more important things to be worried about right now. And what have they done for this cause?_ Someone who wasn’t Alwyn, but familiar to him, said, _Weigh you down. That is all they have done. They are mere children. Fragile. Weak. And, frankly, they are what took her away from you._

And Alwyn thought that it was right. And everything changed. His love for his sons was gone just as quickly as it had come on with their birth, and whoever Alwyn was now didn’t care. Neither seemed to understand the reason their father no longer tucked them in at night, or why he waved them off any time they tried to spend time with him, or why he seemed to view feeding them more and more as a burden and annoyance rather than an accepted necessity with each passing day. 

  
  


Jacquot, however, noticed every change in Alwyn. They were close friends, after all.

He’d noticed a change since the moment his friend had found that book abandoned in the guild; he knew that things were going to change and he was virtually powerless to stop it. When Alwyn had found it, Jacquot had tried to sway him from pursuing the magic he could obtain from giving himself to it. But Alwyn, while a good man (albeit a dangerous one, working for the guild now), was plagued by thoughts of revenge. Jacquot knew this. And it was the half-elf’s downfall. 

He noticed the decline in Alwyn’s care for his sons. Noticed how he began to look at them in disdain with eyes that  _ were not his own. _ And Jacquot was not an easily intimidated man, but deep inside him somewhere those eyes now scared him. Alwyn was no longer the man he’d met in the alleyways, scared and afraid, clutching his children; left helpless simply for loving too much. When Jacquot looked at the man now, he saw some kind of monster. 

Jacquot got in the habit of coming down to Alwyn’s quarters more than usual when he picked up on the fact he hadn’t been feeding the children very adequately. Sylnan had mentioned in passing being hungry and Alwyn had snapped at him to shut up in Jacquot’s presence. It made the man’s heart drop to the bottom of his stomach like an icy rock, the way his friend spoke. So, that became his responsibility. It seemed like the boys came to like Jacquot more than their own father that year, as he began caring for them more than Alwyn (and he was never mean to them). However, Jacquot realized with a pained pang in his chest one day that things needed to change more than this.

Sylnan had found his way to Jacquot’s quarters one day, Br’aad in tow. The younger had been crying and Sylnan looked much too angry for a near 7 year old. He’d simply told Jacquot that their father had been “very mean” and he didn’t want them to be with him right now. He’d asked to stay with Jacquot, and not tell Alwyn they were here. Jacquot readily accepted them into his space and locked his door, not asking questions. He checked the boys over to ensure his friend (if he could really call him that anymore) hadn’t hurt them. They checked out aside from various scratches on Sylnan (which were typical, the boy was a troublemaker), and a near bruise around Br’aad’s wrist. He assumed that to be from Brendan with the way the boy held onto it, like it was fresh. Nothing too bad, but still evidence of a physical scuffle, and he knew in that moment more needed to be done.

Alwyn was dangerous. He seemed to grow more deranged, more obsessed with his work and with knowledge and with power with each passing day. Jacquot had to stay and pursue his takedown of the king no matter what, though, and that meant learning how to adapt to the changes in Alwyn. However, it more and more prevalently also meant that his sons could no longer be around him. And, frankly, Jacquot didn’t think Alwyn would care much if they disappeared. At least, he was sure he would get over the anger quickly once he did notice them gone. So, being as sneaky as a man working directly under the king’s nose against him could be, he took Sylnan and Br’aad out of the guild.

Alwyn hadn’t even come looking for them that next day, so that was when Jacquot took them. There was an orphanage on the wharf; a shitty one, but somewhere they could be cared for at least enough. He’d brought them to the king first, made up some story about how he’d found them abandoned by Alwyn (who Rigmund knew as “Brendan,” his fake name) and explained they should keep them alive. Luckily, Sylnan hadn’t said anything, just stood there scowling at everyone, and Br’aad seemed like he barely understood what was going on, just clutched onto his brother the whole time under the scrutinous eyes of the king and other nobles in the court. The king had thought on it for a moment, but ultimately agreed to throwing them in the orphanage but assuring they were kept alive for the sake of using them against “Brendan” should they seek him out. Jacquot’s heart ached for them.

He explained to Sylnan that he and his brother had a place at the thief’s guild with him in the future, but for now he had to stay here. Sylnan had stared at him in distaste, which Jacquot understood, but ultimately agreed. He hoped he could trust a 7 year old boy’s words more than ever. Moreso, he hoped he could trust the boy to convince his brother to keep his mouth shut about anything pertaining to Alwyn or the guild (he was only 4 after all), but from what he knew about the brothers, Br’aad followed Sylnan’s lead, so hopefully it would be fine.

So the boys became orphans. Jacquot returned to the guilt and explained that they had disappeared; Alwyn seemed genuinely concerned for the first time in a couple of years, but after a moment of staring into those off eyes of his Jacquot came to the conclusion he was more worried of being found out rather than the safety of his own blood. And he scowled inwardly.

He was over it weeks later, though, when some guild members brought back intel about Sylnan and Br’aad being seen in the orphanage, presumably captured and taken by some of the king’s men. Alwyn didn’t express concern about that, instead said it was almost better that way so long as they said nothing about the guild and his location. However, he went on to joke with Jacquot he felt the boys were too dumb to even retain the fact they’d lived here with him to begin with, so there was really nothing to worry about. And the real Alwyn was gone. And Jacquot felt sick.

Alwyn felt no pull to protect his sons anymore. He felt little else than the hunger for more power and the fall of the king. 

Isn’t that the tragedy of it all?

**Author's Note:**

> Dozywocie – Parental contract with children guaranteeing lifelong support.


End file.
